


A Reason to Be

by orphan_account



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe, Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fraternization, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, OHMAIGAWD, Romance, Yes there is humor, and offhand suicide comments, i didnt write over 4000 words just to kill them off, no suicide though, of sorts, this fic will have a happy ending dammit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-07 09:21:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13431723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "He became his reason to continue living."





	1. What is Love?

**Author's Note:**

> (Is that summary cringy or WHAT? ouo)
> 
> This is my first time writing a chapter of a story that had over 4000 words. I'm super fucking impressed with myself. ALSO, if you catch any spelling mistakes let me know! I don't have a beta reader. ;u;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two unlikely mecha meet (again) and they develop feelings for each other over an obscure amount of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby, don't hurt me. Don't hurt me, no mo'... DA DA DADA DA DA DA DADA DA--

More often than not, Dreadwing always found himself at that same exact location. The empty, barren canyon where he could tell was the last place Skyquake had been alive. It was especially lonesome during night, but the less chance of an Autobot showing up and ruining his moments the better, and they were seldom seen at night except for the special occasions. Usually due to Decepticon activity, of course, because with missions—they weren't called “secret missions” because with any other ‘Con except Soundwave they were always compromised—Megatron preferred to send soldiers out during the dark cycle to attempt and typically fail at gaining the element of surprise.

 

He didn't visit the makeshift grave he created for Skyquake every night cycle, but it was pretty damn close to it. What excuse could he offer? Dreadwing missed his spark twin more than a Decepticon grunt should ever miss a fallen comrade, but he couldn't help it. When Skyquake off-lined, he very much did take a piece of Dreadwing with him, and it hurt. He and Dreadwing didn't have the most affectionate of relationships, but they did care for each other greatly. So yes, it really did hurt.

 

The Seeker could go as far as to say his brother's absence left a hole in his very spark, and he wouldn't be exaggerating that much. After all, they were split-spark twins—a spark that had divided into two, thus creating twinsparks. It was a rare phenomenon, but not unheard of. However, split-sparks were, well, still are considered an abomination of life. Two mecha of the same spark? Blasphemous! In the dark past of Cybertron, the execution of a split-spark mech was frighteningly common whenever twinsparks had been produced. But what most didn't know was that if you terminated one, the other would soon follow.

 

It was similar to a key and a lock: for one to function, the other would need to exist. If not, well, then it was useless.

 

Dreadwing mulled over that analogy while staring at the pile of rocks that made up Skyquake’s tombstone. Yes, his current predicament was exactly alike to that analogy. Sooner or later, the feeling of misery and anger that was in his spark would slowly consume him until he was nothing but an emotionless husk of a mech, and then he too would offline.

 

 _It would be a sad, pathetic fate for a mech that had managed to become the second-in-command of the Decepticon army_ , Dreadwing thought, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not now. Maybe not ever. Maybe—

 

 _Ping! Ping!_ _Ping-_

 

The Seeker gave a heavy sigh before answering. “This is Dreadwing.”

 

 _“Dreadwing!”_ Came the shrieky voice of Starscream through the comm., _“Where in the Pits have you flown off to? Trying to escape your duties as first lieutenant?”_

 

“I simply desired a flight. I'm sure you would understand the feeling?” Dreadwing replied flatly, and blatantly ignored the bait the silver flyer was trying to lay out.

 

Starscream sputtered for a moment, probably trying to come up with a good comeback, until he ultimately gave a scoff. _“Well…! You're wanted back here. Just- just get back here! And make it hasty!”_ He paused. _“Uh! Starscream out.”_ And the line went dead.

 

Dreadwing’s wings rose up slightly in irritation before he forced them down again. He expelled a breath of air and laid a servo on the rock tombstone one last time for that night before transforming and blasting off into the starry Nevada sky with a speed all Seekers were notorious for.

 

Dreadwing, however, had been completely unaware of the pair of blue optics that had watched everything he had done then in that canyon.

   

* * *

 

 

Morale had been down lately around the base. It didn't a genius to realize that. But what no other ‘Bot realized was that Wheeljack has been disappearing more often than not. No ‘Not except Ratchet. He's seen the Wrecker leave base most mornings and he's heard him return during the late hours of the night. He's never said anything, though.

 

Wheeljack was more than grateful for such a thing because he knew Ratchet knew of him sneaking off on his lonesome, and he's glad the medic hasn't ratted him out to the Prime. Or worse, Ultra Magnus. He didn't think he would be able to handle it if the commander began to vent down his neck or even forbid him to leave base. If that happened, then he might just blow himself up intentionally.

 

At first he started to leave just to clear his processors and escape the depression that hung over the other Autobots like a raincloud. However, then he started to leave to clear his processors, escape the raincloud, and watch over (read: spy on) that Seeker he had caught in the canyon one night after he heard him speaking to himself. Turned out, the Seeker was talking to a pile of rocks, and Wheeljack had been entirely convinced that the mech had lost his helm until he discovered that the mech was talking to rocks that were acting as a surrogate grave, and suddenly all the energon in Wheeljack’s frame went cold and he felt like a huge fraghead.

 

And then the realization set in—Decepticons have loved ones, too. And Wheeljack felt like even more of a fraghead. Maybe it was the low morale depression getting to him that made him feel this way, but he just felt bad for the Decepticon.

 

Wheeljack’s observations (spying) of the Decepticon went on for quite a number of weeks until he began to get more confident and stay out later, not returning until well into the early morning. Inevitably and unfortunately, the others noticed this and he was finally confronted this morning by none other than Ultra Magnus himself with the others standing in the background.

 

“And where do you think you are going?” Ultra Magnus’s voice cut through the air crisply in the rapidly freezing room.

 

Wheeljack slowed in his steps until he stopped. His servo twitched upward towards his katanas, but he refrained with a self-control that could pride even the most disappointed of mecha. He half-turned towards his commander, faceplate hiding his deep-set scowl, and returned his cold gaze with a fiery glare.

 

“Leaving, obviously.” Wheeljack made it sound casual, but it was anything but. Though, he enjoyed the way Magnus’s optics narrowed and the way his lips trembled—he was trying to not to snarl or growl at his disobedient subordinate.

 

“And did you inform one of your superiors that you were leaving?” He asked, voice edging towards a growl anyways.

 

“Wasn't aware that I had to.” Wheeljack answered unwaveringly. He actually did, but he decided to play the role of “dumb mech” just to further antagonize Ultra Magnus.

 

“Of course you have to.” The commander responded. His servos were clenched tightly. “You need to have authorization to do anything off base, and in failure of gaining said authorization can get you locked in the brig indefinitely.”

 

Wheeljack snorted and rolled his optics. “I didn't know we had a brig.” He muttered.

 

“Well, now you do, and if you don't inform me of what your objective for leaving is you _will_ be thrown into it and held there for interrogation.” Ultra Magnus said.

 

“ _Interrogation?_ ” The ex-Wrecker grinded his dentae together and forced himself to keep his arms at his sides even as his servos itched to grab ahold of the katanas on his back. “You act like I'm some sort of double agent!”

 

“Perhaps, you are!” Magnus snarled. This made Wheeljack reel back and grasp his katana, but he didn't make a move to point at his commander. The blatant show of hostility, though, set Ultra Magnus off. “Look at this! What is so important outside of Autobot territory that you would dare to raise a weapon against your commander?”

 

“What? A mech can't just get away to clear his helm, huh?” Wheeljack snapped and his grip on the katana tightened. “Why do you need to know what's _my_ business?!”

 

Ultra Magnus chuckled humorlessly. “It's my job to know, Wheeljack.” He told him. “Also, why would you need to go out everyday and not return until nightfall for several weeks?! It raises suspicions, you know.”

 

“Not—your—business!” The ex-Wrecker said.

 

“And I'll tell you again that it is.”

 

He was getting more frustrated than pissed now. It is apparent he won't be left alone until he told them the truth of his whereabouts. His mind wandered over to the ‘Con that frequents the canyon; he falters a bit, reminiscing on what he's found out. They want the truth? Okay. They will get it. All of it.

 

“Okay, _Ultra Magnus, sir_ . You wanna know where I've been going, huh?” Wheeljack released his katana. His tone became totally indifferent. “At first I've been going anywhere. Just to get away from the state of _doom and gloom_ this place has become trapped in and to be able to think clearly without somebot venting down my neck! Yes, that's what it's been. That wasn't all of it, though. I've been going to the canyon, too. Pretty high up place, you know. Not high enough to offline a mech in one go, but if one tried hard enough, they could.”

 

He stopped and glanced at his teammates. It appeared that they haven't processed the ending part of his little rant just yet, but it was enough to transform swiftly and race away. He heard a loud chorus of his designation right before he was out of earshot. Though, it didn't make a difference.

 

He ignored the comm’s he received afterwards.

   

* * *

 

 

Dreadwing landed, but in no way was he prepared to see Wheeljack out of all the mecha on this planet standing before Skyquake’s grave. His back was to him, his helm bowed. Dreadwing wasn't at all sure what he was doing here, but somehow, he couldn't find it in him to really care anymore. In the beginning when he had first arrived on Earth, he had an impressive attempt to, but the cycles did pass with no end to the abysmal sensation in his chassis that only grew like a cancerous cell.

 

“What are you doing here?” Dreadwing asked as he dared to approach the Autobot.

 

“Paying my respects.” Came the cool answer.

 

However, those words provoked a negative, very nearly homicidal response within Dreadwing, and it took the Seeker all his power not to start bashing the other’s helm in. “Your _respects?_ ” He spat, wings trembled with badly concealed fury. “You are an Autobot, and your very kind terminated him! How could you even think you could do such a disrespectful thing without consequence?”

 

To Wheeljack’s credit, he didn't even blink at Dreadwing as he said this. Actually, it seemed like he was expecting this harsh reply. Instead he asked: “You were twinsparks?”

 

“Yes! My brother. My—” the Seeker paused. He gave Wheeljack an odd look. “Why are you asking?”

 

“I've heard things about them. Like how if one off-lined, the other would follow soon after.” He said. He tilted his helm to the side. “How come you haven't?”

 

Dreadwing snorted. “Oh, believe me, I would love nothing more than to reunite with my brother, but unfortunately, there are things here that need to be done before I can do that.” Dreadwing answered, solemn.

 

“What's stopping you?” Wheeljack asked.

 

“My duties as the Decepticon army’s first lieutenant, of course.” Dreadwing replied.

 

“Really?” The ex-Wrecker gave the other a flat, disbelieving look. “What does it matter? I've grown tired of this war—I’m sure you have, too. And we all know the war isn't gonna end until either Optimus Prime or Megatron, or both, are dead.

 

This war took my best friends and family away from me, and all it's doing is taking. What's gonna happen when the war ends? Because there's gonna barely anything left for us to try and salvage and rebuilt if it ever does. Fragging Vos and Praxus were levelled, all that's left of Iacon are its walls, and all the other cities are made up of, basically, debris and half-destroyed structures!” Wheeljack shouted, venting heavily.

 

Dreadwing was silent the entire time. He merely watched as the other gestured angrily during his little speech. Now, he pondered over Wheeljack’s words and there was absolutely no room for doubt. He was completely right.

 

“So then what?” He had to ask. “What will you do about it?”

 

“Terminate myself because I'm not dealing with that.” Wheeljack answered bluntly.

 

Dreadwing wasn't fazed by his answer. He simply hummed in acknowledgment. He ventured closer to the Autobot and stared at Skyquake’s headstone.

 

“You never did give a comprehensible answer, you realize, right?”

 

Wheeljack glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

 

“You, an Autobot, and my brother Skyquake, a Decepticon. You came here to ‘pay your respects’ to my brother, correct? I want to know why.”

 

“Well, I'm not sure, honestly. It just felt like the right thing to do.” Wheeljack said, a tad bit bashful if the slight twitching of his doorwing was anything to go by.

 

“It was the right thing to do, was it?” Dreadwing smirked, fairly amused. “You Autobots with your morals and your helpful natures will always be lost on any Decepticon, but at least I can see where you're coming from.”

 

“Understanding is the first step towards fellowship.” Wheeljack replied. It sounded almost automatic. He seemed to catch himself, though, and was obviously embarrassed by it. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

 

Dreadwing let out a genuine chuckle. “Was that a part of your moral coding?” He asked.

 

“Sort of. It was just something taught to me by a former mentor.” Wheeljack smiled.

 

“Huh, very interest—”

 

_Ping! Ping! Ping!_

 

Of all the fragging moments.

 

Straightening himself up, Dreadwing answered the incoming comm. “This is Dreadwing.” He said. He noticed the way Wheeljack tensed up when he did.

 

 _“Dreadwing,”_ it was Megatron, and he didn't sound too pleased, _“where are you?”_

 

“I…” the Seeker stole a glance at Wheeljack. “I was just out taking a flight…”

 

 _“Oh, you were, were you? Get back to the ship before I send Soundwave and the eradicons to come and collect you.”_ The comm cut abruptly, leaving Dreadwing alone with his rapid thoughts.

 

“Dreadwing?” Wheeljack was there still, though.

 

“I need to leave. Megatron’s orders.” The Seeker felt faintly disappointed that he had to, but orders were orders. He couldn't disobey. “I'll see you around, I suppose.”

 

“Uh, yeah, I'll be here.” The ex-Wrecker nodded. “See ya.”

 

“Goodbye, Wheeljack.”

 

With that, he transformed and took off, and the Autobot watched him go.

   

* * *

 

 

Wheeljack didn't return to the base right away. Hell, he didn't want to return at all; he didn't want to face his former commander or the disappointment he knew they felt for him. So he stayed out just a little longer to take a ride around Jasper, Nevada, and Wheeljack realized one crucial thing about himself then.

 

He despised deserts. They were dry, they were hot, and they were dusty.

 

“Kind of like somebody I know.” Wheeljack snickered as he raced across the empty plains and towards the entrance of the base.

 

It was the dead of night, but it was better than coming at the asscrack of dawn. Perhaps they'll be grateful for that. Probably not, he thought as he transformed and strolled to what could be referred to as the common area.

 

Unfortunately, three certain bots were there and seemingly waiting for him.

 

“Wheeljack.” Optimus greeted as if it wasn't one in the Primus-danged morning.

 

“Prime,” the mech returned. His gaze swept over the other two in the room. “Ratchet, Magnus, sir.”

 

Ultra Magnus practically glared daggers at him while Ratchet had somewhat of an unreadable expression on his faceplates, but Wheeljack could feel a faint presence of concern in the medic’s EM field. The Prime took a few steps forward and deliberately blocked Ultra Magnus from Wheeljack’s view.

 

“It has been brought to my attention that you have been taking unauthorized departments from base.” Optimus said and expanded his field to let it wash over Wheeljack. It was full of calm collectedness and a non-accusatory feeling. “If I may ask, why?”

 

Wheeljack relaxed a bit. He bowed his head. “I was telling the truth earlier, you know. Just needed to get away from here.” He replied. Then, he hesitantly added: “I… I haven't been myself lately. It just- I- I don't know. I feel… kind of weird, I guess.”

 

Optimus shared a look with Ratchet.

 

“Like indifferent or numb?” Ratchet asked.

 

“Eh… Both, maybe?” Wheeljack said.

 

Ratchet frowned. He walked over to Wheeljack and placed a servo on his shoulder. “Honestly, psychiatry wasn’t one of my strong subjects, but maybe you've got some mild form of depression?” He suggested. “I mean, with how things have been recently over the past weeks, I wouldn't be surprised if you did.”

 

“Depression?” Wheeljack repeated, incredulous. “You're funny, doc. Wreckers don't do depression.”

 

“Well, it was simply a suggestion.” Ratchet replied, but even then he didn't sound like he believed Wheeljack’s response.

 

“Either way, I think it would be best that you took it easy, Wheeljack.” Optimus said. “Not only are you a valuable asset of the Autobots, but you're also a valuable friend even if it may not seem like it at times.”

 

Wheeljack managed a small, honest smile. “Thanks, Prime. I'll keep that in mind.” He said.

 

“Yes, well, it's true…”

 

Three helms turned in mild surprised at Ultra Magnus.

 

“What?” He asked. “You’re… truly important, Wheeljack.”

 

Wheeljack smirked at that. “And here I thought you didn't even know my name.”

 

“Of course I do.” He scoffed. “I memorized all of the Wreckers’ names right before I became your new commanding officer. It would be not only rude, but improper if I didn't.”

 

Wheeljack cycled his optics at this new information. Then he chuckled. “You learn new things everyday.” He remarked good naturedly. “Anyways, if you don't mind, sweet recharge is calling for me.”

 

“Yes, of course. Take it easy.” Optimus reminded him.

 

“Yes, yes, and also—” Ratchet suddenly produced a cube of energon and all but shoved it into Wheeljack’s servos. “Drink this. Don't think I haven't noticed you intaking less than the optimal amount of fuel.”

 

“Thanks. Keen optic as always, doc, but I think you should heed your own thinly veiled threat.” Wheeljack said, and then he departed.

 

Ratchet stared after him, frowning.

 

* * *

 

   

Dreadwing had his optics off-lined, but he allowed a tiny hint of a smile to quirk his derma when he heard the roar of Wheeljack’s engine as he approached on Dreadwing’s position. Ever since their encounter a few solar cycles ago, it's been like this. Them meeting up and sharing a few moments together before one of them had to depart, Dreadwing more often than Wheeljack. However, that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy the peace between for that time being.

 

If Dreadwing had to be honest, he would quietly admit that he's been looking forward to these rendezvous of theirs lately. It's the only thing he's looked forward to since Skyquake’s termination, really.

 

“Shanix for your thoughts, Winger?” Wheeljack said as he ambled up beside Dreadwing.

 

Dreadwing gave him a look at the nickname but didn't comment on it. “It's nothing. Merely musing, is all.” He answered.

 

“Really? ‘Cause if you think any harder I'd be able to hear you.” The other jested lightly. “How about you tell a buddy how you're feeling?”

 

“‘Buddy’?” This time, Dreadwing commented.

 

“Well, yeah, I just guessed since you haven't tried to kill me, and I don't want to kill you, that—I don't know—maybe we were approaching ‘buddy’ territory?” Wheeljack said, albeit a bit flustered.

 

“Sure. We can be ‘buddies’, I guess.” Dreadwing said.

 

He pretended that he didn't notice Wheeljack relax fractionally.

 

“Anyways,” he coughed. “What's on your processors?”

 

Dreadwing expelled a soft vent. “Anything, to be honest. It's proven to be difficult to keep my thoughts and emotions in check after Skyquake off-lined.” He confessed quietly.

 

The other made a ponderous noise.

 

“You loved him?”

 

“Yes. That might be a surprise to you, right?” Dreadwing muttered. “Decepticons aren't loveless. We have those we care for. We're just not as _outspoken_ when it comes to our personal opinions and feelings.”

 

Wheeljack chuckled, but it held no amusement. “Guess us goody-two-shoes Autobots are just fighting a war based on misconception, huh?”

 

“In a way, I suppose, but I wouldn't necessarily say that.” Dreadwing replied before casting his optics to the starry night sky. “I believe that we've all lost our way in this war, and that we're fighting not for freedom and justice anymore, but because we have grown bitter and angry for all that we've lost in process. We want only revenge now.”

 

“But eventually we'll drive ourselves to extinction then.” Wheeljack said.

 

“Precisely.” Dreadwing gave a nod.

 

A moment of silence passed.

 

“Some haven't completely lost it, though.” Wheeljack said.

 

“Yes,” Dreadwing nodded again. “Take your leader, take your comrades here, and then take me and a few on the Nemesis as prime examples. We know what we should be fighting for, but we're driven by the rage and ignorance of the others and are unable to guide it back on the correct path, so we _have_ to continue fighting _their_ war.”

 

“Whose war?”

 

“Insanity’s war.”

 

Wheeljack grinned at Dreadwing. “Well, you're definitely not wrong.” He remarked. “But who's who on your team?”

 

“Only the commanding officers, save for Megatron. Maybe a few of the drones as well. I can't really tell with the Predacon.” The Seeker shuttered his optics.

 

“Well, it's no secret that ol’ bucket head lost his head a few centuries ago.” Wheeljack snorted. “As for the Autobots? I'm pretty sure none of us have gone off the deep end, but we're for sure allowing our emotions to get the upper hand.”

 

Dreadwing smiled. “Your use of Earthen literary devices is humoring.” He commented.

 

“What can I say? It's grown on me. Especially when Bulkhead ropes me into helping Miko with her English homework.” He said.

 

“Miko?” The Seeker queried curiously.

 

“Yeah, uh, she's one of the dominant native species of this planet. She wears her hair up in ponytails. Really likes rock music, like, _really_ likes it.” Wheeljack winced. “Don't quite understand how _they_ can even understand what the singer is saying when their voice is all… screamy, shrieky like that.”

 

“It reminds me of a certain Decepticon I know, much to my misfortune.”

 

The Autobot barked out a laugh at that. “I can't imagine living in the same space as Starscream. I can barely handle hearing him across the battlefield!” He exclaimed.

 

“Well, you learn to tune him out when he hasn't anything important to say.” Dreadwing said, fairly amused then.

 

They relapsed into another silence. Dreadwing had to admit to himself that it was enjoyable being in Wheeljack’s presence and simply talking. No fighting, no emptiness, just relaxing for a little while with no worry of being stabbed in the back. It was great.

 

“Your Miko. She is a human, right? Would it be alright if you were to tell more about them? Humans, I mean.”

 

Wheeljack looked at him in surprise before smiling. “It's no problem. I'll tell you all I know! So..."

 

They stayed there together in that canyon until the sun rose languidly above the horizon line, touching all that it could with its warm arms of light. Wheeljack and Dreadwing had relocated themselves to the ledge of the canyon to watch the sunrise all while they continued to chatter to each other lightheartedly.

 

“...but I managed to get out of it fairly easily, though.”

 

“And how did you do that?” Dreadwing asked, thoroughly enraptured by the ex-Wrecker’s tale.

 

“Well, I did what I'm best at—I took a grenade out and ‘sploded it to kingdom come!” Wheeljack said and cackled.

 

“What? Didn't that damage you?”

 

“Of course it did. I was in the gross organic’s digestion chamber, after all. I lost my entire arm and suffered some other pretty bad damages, but look it! I'm still walking.” Wheeljack said with a cheeky grin.

 

“You're truly a force against nature, aren't you?” Dreadwing shook his helm, but was smiling regardless. “Something else entirely. I’m certain of that now.”

 

“What? My other stories of near-deactivation didn't prove that already?” The other smirked.

 

“I had suspicions, but I didn't want to assume.” Dreadwing returned.

 

“Aw. How polite.” Wheeljack said jestfully.

 

“Even the bad guy has a line he doesn't dare to cross.” Dreadwing said, nodding. His optics drew to the giant orb steadily climbing the sky. It was close to no longer being concealed by the horizon, and the sky was a myriad of light oranges, reds, purples and blues each and every one fading into the other. It was a sight to behold.

 

“Philosophical, too.”

 

The Seeker laughed.

 

Truly, it was a sight to behold. Wheeljack watched him as he in turn watched the daybreak. To Wheeljack, Dreadwing was a more prettier sight as the light washed over him. It illuminated his features far better than the moonlight did. His faceplates were brightened in such a handsome way, his derma forming a little ‘o’, and his wings quivered ever so slightly as he tried to take it all in at once. Wheeljack almost forgot to vent as he got wrapped up in his quiet admiration of the unaware Seeker.

 

“I never had the time to watch this, nor did I ever stay out so long to bare witness to it.” The Seeker spoke softly. He glanced at Wheeljack and was surprised to find him openly staring at him. “Wheeljack?”

 

The other had a split-second to make his decision whether to back away or not. He ultimately decided not as he whispered “frag it all” and closed the space between the two of them.

 

Dreadwing let out a gasp as derma was placed over his own, but he soon relaxed and kissed back. He felt Wheeljack smirk against him as he deepened it. It remained chaste, and it wasn't long until Wheeljack pulled away, faceplates flushed with a dopey grin. Dreadwing swore he could hear his spark beating erratically against his chestplates as he simply stared with wide, shocked optics.

 

“What was that?” Dreadwing managed to whisper.

 

“It’s another one of the humans’ customs. It's called a kiss, and is normally considered an intimate thing between two lovers.” Wheeljack answered.

 

“That- That was… It felt odd, but strangely pleasant.” Dreadwing said quietly before he ventured out and placed a servo atop one of Wheeljack’s. “You said it was a ritual of sorts between lovers.”

 

“Uh, yeah. Kind of like that, anyways.” The ex-Wrecker muttered and stared at their servos.

 

“Would you… like to be?”

 

His helm snapped up, optics brightening to near-white. “Are you serious?”

 

“Yes.” Dreadwing said.

 

“Oh, thank the Primes—” Wheeljack breathed before he gripped Dreadwing’s wrist and pulled him into a tight, jovial embrace. “I don't know what I'd do if you didn't want it.”

 

Dreadwing hummed. “And what is this called?” He asked.

 

“A hug. It's shared between anyone and expresses all kinds of emotions.” Wheeljack replied. “Right now, it's meant to express joy. And maybe a bit of relief, too.”

 

Dreadwing eased into the hug at Wheeljack’s explanation. He couldn't quite put a digit on it, but everything about Wheeljack has him feeling a certain way. Was it safety? Love?

 

Perhaps, hope?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS FUCKING 15 PAGES LONG IN GOOGLE DOCS. OH MY FUCK, WHERE DID IT COME FROM??? WHY CANT I BE THIS PRODUCTIVE IN SCHOOL???? AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH
> 
> Anyways
> 
> Next update: 1/20/2019
> 
> :)


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An actual pick-me-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, would you look at that! Three months later and I've finally published the second chapter! It's still not to my liking, but because I had electronic malfunctions and one and a half chapters were deleted I suppose it will do. :\

“Would you care to explain this, Dreadwing?”

 

The Seeker gritted his dentae as he forced himself to keep his optics straight—straight at the projector that displayed his and Wheeljack’s private moment. He could feel his leader glaring holes into him, but he refused to acknowledge it. He acted foolishly. Very, very foolishly. How could he have done this?

 

“Fraternizing with the enemy?” Starscream sneered from behind him. “Why, Dreadwing! We thought you better than that.”

 

    He didn’t respond.

 

“I have tolerated many things, Dreadwing, but this? This is unacceptable.” Megatron rumbled as he took a few heavy steps forward. He stopped directly in front of the winged mech and slipped a claw underneath his chin, lifting his helm to meet his optics. “What do you have to say for yourself, traitor?”

 

Dreadwing took a deep vent in. “Anyone can change. It's merely a matter of whether or not they want to change and if others are willing to accept that decision.” He said quietly.

 

“What does that mean?” Starscream asked with a snort.

 

“It means _this_ —” Dreadwing grabbed a tight hold on Megatron's wrist and, in a demonstration of remarkable strength, flipped the warlord over his back—using his wings as a ramp of sorts—and slammed him into the floor with as much force as he could manage. Dreadwing wasted no time in producing an energon blade from his subspace and thrusting it down into Megatron’s back. The warlord howled in pain and outrage.

 

“You lunatic!” Starscream shrieked angrily even as he backed away from Dreadwing.

 

“Only in your optics.” Returned Dreadwing before he rushed Starscream.

 

The silver flyer yelled and tried to transform, but he was halted as the other Seeker grasped his wing and yanked him back. There was a sharp sound as Starscream’s wing was dislocated from its proper alignment, and the poor mech _screamed_. Dreadwing held back a wince of guilt, knowing fully well how painful it was to have any sort of damage, no matter how minor, dealt to the wings. He swiftly threw the writhing Seeker to the side.

 

He transformed into his jet mode, but before he could go anywhere there were two sets of claws suddenly digging into his dorsal fins. Dreadwing let out a yelp and changed back into root mode as he went soaring across the command room and into the wall. He quickly composed himself as Megatron advanced on him.

 

“You will _pay_ with your _life!_ ” The Decepticon leader roared.

 

Dreadwing let an ugly grin slip onto his faceplates. He caught Megatron’s hard yet uncoordinated punch with his servos and allowed it close enough to be nearly face to face with the furious warlord.

 

“And yours will pay for Skyquake!”

 

* * *

 

 

“Ratchet, do you think I'm an idiot?”

 

The didn't even look away from what he was doing on the console as he responded. “Yes.”

 

“No— I—” Wheeljack let out a puff of air. “That's not what I meant! Do you think I make poor decisions?”

 

“The answer to that is also yes.” Ratchet said.

 

“ _Ratchet_ —”

 

“Look, Wheeljack,” Ratchet interrupted as he turned to level a stern gaze on the ex-Wrecker, “I don't know what kind of point you're trying to prove to yourself by asking me these questions, but I do know you're failing epically right now. Yes, you can be an idiot, and yes, you sometimes make awful fragging decisions, _however_ usually when you do do these things, your spark is in the right place. You know why? Because you're driven by your emotions, and you act on your emotions. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it can be a problem at times. Like with your anger.”

 

Wheeljack was quiet for a moment before he smiled brightly. “Thanks, doc.” He said.

 

“Of course, but if I may ask, why did you need to know that?”

 

“Uh, well… I kind of, maybe, sort of did a thing, but I wasn't sure if the thing I did was the right thing to do and… I just wanted some form of confirmation of what I did was right. That's all.” Wheeljack said.

 

“Okay, I only understood half of what you said, but okay.” The medic replied and returned to his things on the console before an alarm went off.

 

“What's that?” Wheeljack asked, curious.

 

“There’s a Decepticon that's landed dangerously near here.” Ratchet answered. “I hope it's only a drone or a rogue Insecticon. Would you be okay with being dispatched to check it out?”

 

“Yeah, sure. I can go by myself, too.” The ex-Wrecker replied.

 

“Yes—wait, no! You can't go by yourself, you idiot! What if it isn't a drone or an Insecticon? It could Soundwave or Starscream, and you can't go up against them alone!” Ratchet shouted and gestured wildly with his servos.

 

“I've gone toe to toe with ol’ Sounders before and won—somewhat. I mean, I cracked his visor, so that's something. Anyways, I can go alone, sunshine! Come on—don’t you trust me?” Wheeljack said charmingly as he looped an arm around the medic’s shoulders.

 

“I trust you, but when it comes to making good judgment, I don't.” Deadpanned the ambulance.

 

“Wow, way harsh, doc. Too bad I'm not gonna listen to you anyways.” Wheeljack told him with a laugh as he transformed and sped off.

 

“ _You fragger! I swear, I'm gonna dent your helm when you get back!_ ” Ratchet yelled.

 

* * *

 

 

Fortunately, Ratchet didn't send any other ‘bot to go catch up to Wheeljack, because the Decepticon just so happened to be Dreadwing—deep scratches and dents marking his armor with energon pouring out of various wounds. He was lying prone on the ground, cooling fans working at their highest. When Wheeljack approached, the Seeker dared to look up.

 

“Oh, thank the thirteen that it's you.” Dreadwing rasped with relieved optics.

 

“Frag, Dreadwing, what happened to you? You look like you got put through the scrapper.” Wheeljack remarked as he bent down to gather the mech in his arms.

 

Dreadwing let out a weak chuckle. “Feels that way, too.” he confessed. “As for what happened… well, apparently we had been seen coupling by Laserbeak, and Megatron wasn't at all too happy when he confronted me.”

 

“He nearly beat the spark pulse outta you, huh?” Wheeljack murmured, frowning, as he adjusted the Seeker more comfortably, as he was a good deal bigger than Wheeljack himself, and began the trek back to the base.

 

“Yeah, but you should _see_ him.”

 

Wheeljack paused.

 

“I should? What did you do?” He asked quickly with narrowed optics.

 

“Well, I would be lying if I told you I didn't initiate things.” Dreadwing said just a bit too cheekily. “I began with slamming him into the floor and stabbing him, and then he got up and we fought for a few klicks before I found an opening to escape. I also dislocated Starscream’s wing in the process because he was in the way.”

 

Wheeljack howled with laughter, almost dropping Dreadwing in the process.

 

“You _dislocated_ Screamer’s wing because _he was in the way?_ That's fragging hilarious!” Wheeljack exclaimed, grinning from fin to fin.

 

“Honestly, he had it coming for a while now. Somemech just had to be the bigger bot to ‘serve it to him’, so to speak.” Dreadwing replied simply.

 

“Wow, you're so… awesome.” the other said almost admiringly.

 

Dreadwing stalled. “Awesome, you say?” He echoed thoughtfully. “I would have never described it that way. Thank you, though.”

 

“Anytime.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You see, this chapter was supposed to be much, much longer and dramatic, but it ended on the lighter point of the chapter that had been deleted so you're welcome. ALSO, KEEP EXPECTING IRREGULAR UPDATES. God knows I am not as productive as I could be.
> 
> Next up: Dreadwing meets the fam⭐

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Come scream at me [over here](https://scyllos.tumblr.com/) and tell me to get my ass in gear and stop stalling with story updates. :)


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